Page 275 of The Wright Man

Tina groaned. "Ugh. Him."

I gave her a warning look. "Don't start."

Tina rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "I'm just saying, Counselor Wright's energy is too tight. Like he clenches his jaw in his sleep. Can't take a joke. Wears slacks to a cookout."

"Because he was coming from court—"

"It was a Saturday!"

Their bickering had become so routine that even Bella didn't blink anymore. Andre and Tina were oil and water, ever since the day he showed up to our graduation party and she let him have it after Maleek left, no filter. Didn't matter how much Andre had done to make amends with his brothers. He and Tina just... clashed. Her chaos met his control like a thunderstorm slamming into a steel door.

Bella, as usual, swooped in with a change of subject. "Speaking of men who ain't shit—guess who was my Uber driver the other night?"

Tina and I froze.

"No."

"Oh yes," Bella grinned. "Voldemort. He Who Must Not Be Named. That man had the audacity to call me 'sis' and ask if I was still mad."

Tina choked on her soda. "Not 'sis'!"

We cackled. Loud. Free. The way we always did when karma delivered a little treat.

Gavin had fallen hard. Lost the townhouse, the Audi, his job. Boyd had sent me the receipts months ago—told me Jasmine had given birth to a baby that looked nothing like Gavin. Spoiler alert: it was Boyd's. Apparently, the two of them had been rotating turns with her, and the paternity test caused a full-on fistfight in the hospital waiting room.

Boyd got so mad he fired Gavin. Gavin tried to sue. Boyd couldn't fire Jasmine without risking a separate suit, so now he was cutting two checks: child support and a salary for the woman who played him.

Jasmine was with Theo now, of all people.

The whole thing was a Tyler Perry movie waiting to happen.

Boyd had emailed me the entire saga, begging me to testify in the lawsuit. I screenshotted every paragraph, laughed with Maleek, showed my sisters... and blocked his ass.

Karma didn't miss.

I took a deep breath. Let the moment wash over me.

Twelve months ago, I was drowning in divorce papers and trauma triggers. Now, I was standing inside a space I'd built with my baby sister, planning a homecoming party for a man we thought we'd never see again.

Life was good.

Better than good.

The door creaked open behind me.

"Damn," came the voice I loved most. "The place is still standing? I'm impressed."

Tina groaned. "Ugh, do men not understand sacred spaces anymore?"

Bella didn't look up. "No boys allowed, punk. You bring gifts or you just here to steal the vibe?"

I turned slowly. And there he was.

Maleek. In a GhostFit tank, cargo shorts, and a grin that said trouble. Tucked in the crook of his left arm, wearing a pink satin bow that matched absolutely nothing and bothered no one, was Prada — our three-pound Yorkie, tail going like a helicopter, already scanning the room for someone to beg food from. She spotted the lomo saltado and lost her entire mind.

My whole body reacted the second I saw him. Both of them.

"You brought the dog to this sacred space," Tina said flatly.